Cover
I can’t get anything else of substance out of Taylor for the rest of the night, but truthfully, I don’t even try that hard. Whatever Natalie said or did, it can’t be any worse than what she’s already done. For now, we’re safe… as safe as we can be while we’re still walking this tightrope.
Taylor sleeps in bed with me, but far to the other side of the bed, so close to the edge that I’m afraid he’s going to fall off. But I know his paranoia is unavoidable. Even if we both logically know that Nat can’t possibly be spying on us here in my apartment, we still know how risky it is for him just to be here.
Our only saving grace is that, for whatever reason, Kate is on my side right now.
But not everyone or everything in the world can be on our side. It’s just our luck that not even a day after getting back to Tulsa, Isaac thinks we need to get together to record. Under any other circumstances, he would probably be right. We had a good vibe going at the concert, and for all he knows, we still do. Maybe at least for a day or two, Taylor and I can play along and we can record a song or two.
To be on the safe side, we drive to the studio separately. I don’t know where Taylor plans on telling Natalie that he spent the night if not with me. If he’s gotten that far ahead in his plan, he hasn’t bothered to let me know. I’m sure he’ll figure something out, even if it’s just prolonging the inevitable. Natalie has proven that she isn’t stupid or clueless; she has to suspect he was with me, even if she can’t prove it.
She isn’t at the studio, though, so we can let our guard down a little bit—but only a little. It’s still enough that we do manage to get some work done. In spite of all the worries plaguing me, it’s pretty easy to lose myself in the music, and hours pass by like they’re nothing more than minutes. Before I realize any time at all has passed, it’s time to break for lunch.
I’m not all that hungry, but I still rattle off a sandwich order to one of our interns. I won’t eat much of it, but I know it will only look more suspicious if I claim not to have an appetite. So I order my lunch and settle in to check my email like nothing is wrong.
Only a few minutes later, a light knock comes at the door. I look up to find Carrick standing there, his brows slightly furrowed.
“Hey,” he says. “Can we talk?”
I shrug. “Sure, we’re capable of it.”
Carrick doesn’t speak again until he’s pulled a chair over to my desk and sat down right next to me. “So, is there any particular reason why I’m supposed to go along with the story that your brother spent the night at my place?”
“That’s his story?” I ask.
“Apparently,” Carrick replies. “Care to tell me why he needs a story?”
“Covering his ass. And mine.”
Carrick seems to consider that for a second, then nods. There’s something else in his eyes, but I can’t identify it. Something else he wants to ask or say or… something. I know I need to say something else, too. I need to apologize, but I’m not sure I even know how. It’s not like an apology would make anything about this entire situation okay.
“Care, I… I’m really…”
He stops me, one hand held up in the air to silence me. “It’s fine. It can’t be helped. I’ll cover for you guys… this time.”
This time. The words are gently spoken, not even a hint of malice in them, but I know his patience is running thin, and why wouldn’t it be?
As he gets up and walks away, realization hits me. I’m not sure why I haven’t realized it sooner. Just as I’ve been waiting for Taylor to understand how I felt, so has Carrick been waiting for me to realize how he feels. How did I miss that? How could I be so oblivious? Of course I knew he cared about me, but it never once occurred to me that he must hate being caught up in this Taylor thing with me.
But I don’t see a way to remove him from it. As long as he’s in my life, especially as long as he’s here in Tulsa, he’ll be a part of it. Taylor will always be a part of my life, whether Natalie likes it or not.
Once again, I don’t see any possible escape for any of us.
There has to be some way I can make this hurt Carrick a little less, though. It’s not as though I don’t love him, too. Perhaps it’s different than how I love Taylor, but why does that have to matter? I didn’t love Kate the way I loved Taylor, either, and… maybe that isn’t the best comparison. I don’t want my relationship with Carrick, whether it’s a friendship or something more, to slowly fall apart the way my marriage has.
But why does it have to? Why couldn’t I make something work with him?
Even though I can’t think of a single good reason why it couldn’t work, I still don’t feel terribly hopeful about it. It’s all I’ve got, though. There was never any hope of this thing with Taylor being a real relationship. Carrick is my only shot at something vaguely resembling normal. Why have I ignored it for so long?
With these thoughts in mind, I scurry out of the room to find him. I hope he isn’t too upset with me to listen to what I have to say. I don’t, of course, have any plan about what to say. I just know that I can’t let my fears and doubts get in the way of saying something and trying to salvage what’s left between us.
I waste so much time thinking that he’s made it all the way back into the studio by the time I find him. I let myself into the control booth and just… watch. He has his back turned to me, every muscle in it flexing as he strums his guitar. I don’t recognize the song, but I like it. It’s a little heavier and darker than his usual music, and I can’t help wondering what the lyrics are, if they exist yet. I wonder if they’re about me. I’m not conceited enough to ask him that, though.
When he’s done, he spins around and opens his mouth to speak, but it’s obvious that I wasn’t who he expected to see. He closes his mouth, his lips set in a frown. This isn’t going to be easy, but I have to try.
I attempt to plead with him with my eyes, and he seems to get my message. He sets his guitar down and walks into the control booth, but he doesn’t say a word. Now I just have to find some words of my own.
“Carrick,” I say, figuring his name is a safe enough place to start. “I… I really am sorry, you know.”
“You said that already,” he replies.
“I tried to. You didn’t let me finish.” Great. This is turning into an argument already.
He doesn’t look angry, though. Just… resigned. “So apologize. What are you sorry for, Zac?”
“For… everything. For getting you all caught up in the middle of this thing with me and Taylor. I know it’s not… not where you want to be.”
“Zac,” He says, his eyes softening a little. “Wherever you are… that’s where I want to be. You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“I feel like there’s a but there,” I reply, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
Carrick nods. “But… I can’t be who you run to every time something goes wrong with him. It’s just not right, Zac. And I don’t mean the thing between you two, because you know I don’t give a fuck about whatever some religion says about love. But it’s not right for me to just be… the consolation prize. I shouldn’t let you keep doing that.”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t keep doing it to you. And I didn’t… I never meant to. I think I only just realized that I was. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to just run to you when I can’t have him.”
“So?” He asks. “What does that mean?”
I take a few steps closer to him. “That I don’t want to keep putting you second. I want to put you first.”
“As in… you want to be with me?” He asks incredulously.
I nod, but the motion stops as soon as I see Carrick shaking his head in response.
“You still don’t get it,” he says.
“Then help me get it,” I plead.
“You say you don’t want to put me second, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. If being with Taylor was an option… not a real option, but one that at least wouldn’t destroy your lives… you would choose him, not me. But now that someone is telling you definitely that you can’t have him, you run to me. I’m not your first choice because you want me to be. I’m just the first choice because Taylor’s out of the race now.”
I have no response for that. Everything he’s just said is true; how can I possibly dispute any of it? I still want to, but I can’t.
“Do you get it now, Zac?” He asks.
I nod.
“Good,” he says. “You know I don’t… I don’t want it to be this way, right? But I just can’t do this. I’m not leaving, but I don’t know how much more I can take. Like I said, I’ll cover for you guys this time. But don’t count on me doing it every time you want to tempt fate.”
I shake my head. “It’s not… it wasn’t like that. He didn’t come over just to… He had a big fight with Nat, okay? That’s all.”
“Whatever,” he replies, throwing up his hands. “I don’t want to be in the middle of it. I can’t fix it for you, and I definitely can’t fix it for myself. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but… I think I have to be a little selfish right now.”
“So what are you saying? You’re not even going to be my friend now?”
Carrick shakes his head. “I didn’t say that. I just need to take a step back, and you need to… figure out how to sort your own life out. Stop leaning on me and giving me all these false hopes.”
False hopes?
Is that really how he sees it? It has to be. If there’s one thing I know about Carrick, it’s that he always says what he means. I don’t have to dig through his words to find the truth the way I do with Taylor. If he says I’m only leading him on and he can’t take it any longer… then that’s exactly what he means.
And I can’t even dispute it. Everything he says… is true. It’s not what I meant to do, but it’s what I’ve done.
I try to will myself to say something, anything that will convince him to reconsider this, but I can’t. Carrick is right. What can I possibly say to him? Nothing. Not a damn thing. He’s made up his mind, and he’s not wrong at all. Whatever my intentions are… they don’t change a thing.
With a sad little shake of his head, Carrick walks back out of the control booth. That’s the end of the conversation, I know. There’s nothing more than can be done. While he goes back to work in the studio, I make my way back to my office. Everyone’s just arriving back for lunch when I walk in, and there are far more cheerful, talkative people around than I would like to see. I can barely manage to put a happy face on, but I don’t really care. It doesn’t matter to me at all whether or not anyone believes that I’m really happy right now.
“Here’s your lunch,” Taylor says, handing me a styrofoam take out container. He holds my stare for a moment, then asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, but I can’t bear to get into the truth with him right now. He doesn’t need to know. I could blame him, but it really isn’t his fault. He didn’t force me to fall in love with him, and he definitely didn’t force me to hurt Carrick the way that I have.
That’s all on me. And if there’s a way out of this mess, I have a feeling it’s going to be all on me, too.